Images, Poems & Prose
Raymond Cooper



If I could be a star in the heavens
I would still
Be bound by systems
If I were a universe of books
I would be moved by curious minds
If I were insane
Immersed in creativity
Without incarceration
Forced belief that I'm ill
Conditioned to clinical psychotic reactions
To justify the mistreatment
If I could be free from chemical chains
If I could change the past
I would probably
Have other torments

Verve and Van Gogh

Capital or not
Art for the sake of heart
How! Without capital?
Blood, sweat, and tears
To inspire supposition
Whatever the repercussion
The true Artist
Reverence of originality
Smiling, glorious in rigormortis

Not a Gamble; Existent

He thought
To believe or not
In God
A necessary gamble
Reactions to power of belief
From humanitarian faithful
They couldn't, and will not accept
God, not a spirit, nor human
Not seen or unseen
Not needing belief or unbelief
Even atheists are conscious of creation


I am starved
I am thirsty
I just have to go
Number one
Number two
I am freezing
Gee it is hot
I am breathing
I am sleeping
I am dreaming
I think I am thinking, void of control
Therefore, I have an ego
I am taught I have a kinship to God
No one is supernumerary
However, it is possible
That I am self-conscious
To fulfill a purpose
In what seems to be
A biological, chemical, and physical


We are persons of reason
Not just fashion
Tabac has an effect
Opens a door to perception
You say, they say, second hand smoke!
If it is that dangerous, then make it criminal to sell smoke
Please don't use excuses to make the price atrocious
The skyrocketing of price has tormented us enough
Since the bastardry of the government of Mulroney
Come on baby lighten up
Don't make your booze parties affordable
On the backs of us
Your grandfather probably puffed
If you're pissed that he died from it
Then enough of that stuff
You've got the balls
The majority in government is men
Ban the stuff, even though we love to smoke
No higher prices please!
No more torment!
No more hell!
No more hell!

Destroy Hatred

Hey you
Child of the future
Child with unfathomable technology
This is a plea by me
At the end of the twentieth century
Mentally imprisoned by a despotic father
And a scornful psychiatrist
Purposely misdiagnosed
Because of rebellion
The non-violent rebellion of the nineteen sixties
Against pedagogy, selfishness, and war-mongery
It is true I suffered from mental complications
A piece of brick between the eyes
When I was a child
Thrown in the name of cultural intolerance
In the social circle of my peers I found
Peace, love and respect for knowledge
The antithesis of my fathers values
However! Enough about me
Do you have the resources?
To painlessly
And secretly
Destroy hatred, fear, and disease?

Raymond Cooper UDO

Personally, I have come to know M.F.A.'s
Cutting lawns, painting hallways to pay the rent
Phd's working at Mac's
Voicing grievance about low pay, and high tax
Thirty thousand dollars or more in loans
To learn a lesson in capitalism
Major money, and power was attained, and sustained
For themselves, and their offspring
By silver tongued men, by tyrants and dictators
Mostly uneducated, but adroit in money-management
Their brood needs and trusts the formally trained
I surmise
As long as you don't think for yourself
You will get a job in your chosen field
Highly paid, in contrast to the working poor
Think and you...
I would love to return to study at a university
Without a racehorse Philosophy
Einstein theorized time travel
Maybe in some distant century
My intellectual curiosity would be nurtured
With care
In addition I would be free from speed learning
Free to think, and time to savor what I learned
Free from being beaten for being
Slightly out of school uniform
These are some reasons why
I am Raymond Cooper
University Drop Out

Are You Guys Really Y.U.P.P.I.E.S

In religion class
I debated against smoking grass
I was the shorthaired straight from Pakistan
I was a little racist
Passed a picture around of myself
Proud that I was white as a child
That my hair had been light
didn't like being called Black Eagle
Was not black; insisted I was brown
An Aryan burnt by the sun
Well, I've been to blues jams for years
And shamelessly, love to sing the blues
I have been experienced
Remember grade ten
I was the one, with dress shirt, pants and tie
My shoes polished high
I was going to become a lawyer
Wishes of my father
You kept insisting you had a better way
LSD, higher-intellect, long hair, jeans
I broke on through to the other side
Hey all you freaks in high places
Remember Love?
Remember My Generation?
You all have accumulated enough wealth
I guess it was for you
One thing I'd like to say, before I end this poem
"Lions in the streets roaming.
Dogs in heat rabid foaming
Left the Chaos and Disorder
Back there over his shoulder"
I think he may have spoken an omen
In the words of some possible apostasies


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Text and Images ©1999 Raymond Cooper